


Like Home

by cometthespacerock



Series: Shipmas 2018 [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Shipmas 2018, Weasley Jumpers, adorable boyfriends, light and cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 12:39:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16854127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cometthespacerock/pseuds/cometthespacerock
Summary: Albus scoots his sleeves over his hands. “Oh. Gran makes them every Christmas. One for everyone in the family. I’ve gotten them since I was born." Scorpius hopes one day to have a jumper of his very own.Every year Albus gets a jumper. Scorpius secretly wants one.Day 2 Shipmas 2018 Molly’s Christmas Jumpers





	Like Home

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Littlerose13writes for today's prompt:  
> Day 2: Molly’s Christmas Jumpers
> 
> No angst today, just light and fluff :)

The first winter Albus is in Hogwarts, he goes to pull on a warm jumper from his Gran. The dungeons are cold this time of year, and the comfort of home brings him back to the place he’d rather be. As of right now, he _hates_ Hogwarts, and he _hates_ school, and he _hates_ almost everything magic. He misses his mum and dad, and even his little sister.

The only plus side of Hogwarts so far is one person, and that’s his best friend Scorpius.  Scorpius was currently his only friend at school. He was the first person that didn’t laugh at Albus, or succumb to the stupid nickname of _Cry Baby Slytherin_.  Scorpius was kind; he was thoughtful, and he was the best possible friend Albus could imagine.

One particularly cold evening Scorpius notices Albus pulling out the warm garment. Its hand knitted, he can tell, but it doesn’t seem to be designer or even look to be from a store. He knows it’s probably a family thing, because he notices the same type of knitted sweater on several other students at the school, most being family members of Albus.

“Albie,” Scorpius asks one day while they were sitting on their beds. It was almost curfew for first years, and they had been doing a lot more studying for end of term finals. Scorpius notices Albus huddled tight in one of the worn jumpers.

That was another thing Scorpius noticed about the jumpers. They were always well worn and always very loved in. He could see how some of them had frayed and started to unwind, and how some of them had ripped holes in them. All of them appeared to be the same pattern, however.

“Yeah?” Albus looked up from where he was sitting.

“What’s with the jumper? I’ve seen them around the school, on your brother and cousins. How come?”

Albus scoots his sleeves over his hands. “Oh. Gran makes them every Christmas. One for everyone in the family. I’ve gotten them since I was born. Sometimes she does our names, but lately she’s starting to get more creative and do pictures. I guess it’s hard when some people have the same letters in their names.”

“Oh, that sounds nice.” Scorpius tugs his blanket closer to his body.

“Did you want to borrow one of mine? I have an extra. It’s from the Christmas before last.” Albus goes to rummage in his trunk and pulls the old jumper out, handing it to Scorpius.

Scorpius tugs the jumper on. It’s a bit tight, as Albus is a bit smaller than him, but it’s warm, and he takes comfort in the warm item in their cold dormitory.

Scorpius hopes one day to have a jumper of his very own.

***

Scorpius does not want to go home this holiday. He does not want to be home with just his father in the cold, cold, manor. He doesn’t want to be reminded of carols he sang last Christmas with his mother, or the crest fallen snow she so adored. Scorpius wants to skip Christmas, skip everything.

But he needs to be with his father this year. His father needs him, as they’re all they’ve got left now. His father’s parents are getting older, and his mother’s parents are still in mourning. Scorpius does not want to be around so much dread, but he knows he’s got no choice.

The evening before they leave for the train, Albus receives a thick parcel. Albus tells Scorpius he can’t open it until they’re on the train tomorrow, much like how they always do their gifts. Since they can’t be together on the holiday, the train ride is the next best thing.

Scorpius snags the last compart on the train, much like he does since he’s started Hogwarts. Him and Albus like sitting where no one can bother them, and they like to spread in the compartment and just be together before they’re both sent home.

It’s Scorpius’ first Christmas without his mum, and Albus doesn’t ask him anything. He was at the funeral; he knows Scorpius isn’t happy with it.

“I got you a present,” Albus says to Scorpius. “If you still want it,” he says.

Scorpius’ eyes light up, but only slightly. They haven’t sparkled since last year. “I got you something, too. Mine first,” Scorpius says, and Albus just nods. Albus unwraps a new sketchbook, similar to the one he always carries around with him. He smiles at Scorpius.

“Thanks, Scorp. I love it. My old one is almost done.”

“I know! I saw you using it during History of Magic last week. It’s really good. You’re a good drawer.”

Albus blushes; compliments still make him nervous. He never knows how to respond. But, he decides, Scorpius is probably like his mum, or his Gran: they’d like his art no matter how terrible it is.

“I hope you don’t mind this; I couldn’t find that book you wanted.” Albus had spent hours searching for that copy of that one book Scorpius had wanted this year. As far as Albus knew, it was currently out of print and wouldn’t be printed for another year or so, since it was a textbook used at one of the other magical schools. He hands Scorpius over the lumpy package.

As the blond unwraps, his eyes widen. Inside was a jumper, hand knitted. It was different colours, with patches all over. There was a note attached, too, and Scorpius goes to read it.

_Scorpius,_

_Albus told me about your mother passing away. I’m so terribly sorry, dear. I know we have not met, but anyone who befriends my ickle Albie is a friend of mine, and everyone deserves to have the comfort and warmth of a mother’s hug._

_Don’t be a stranger, dear._

_Hugs and kisses,_

_Molly (Albus’ Gran)_

Scorpius’ smile creeps back to his face. “Al, I love it! It’s great!” He slips the jumper on and immediately feels the warmth and comfort of a warm hug.

“I know it’s not the same as your own mum but—“

Scorpius nods, and wraps his arms around himself. It’s warm, it’s comfortable, and it’s the best thing he’s received all year.

He wears it until the threads fall apart.

***

The final winter holiday of the year is an exciting one. All the family are gathered in the Burrow, Scorpius and his father included. Since starting Hogwarts, the Malfoys and the Potters had become somewhat acquaintances, and even tolerated each other enough for their son’s sake. Their sons, who were now boyfriends.

This was the first real Christmas the two had spent together. Last Christmas Albus was nursing a broken heart, and now, it was mending. Scorpius couldn’t be happier to stand beside his boyfriend in his grandmother’s house for the holidays.

Everyone was gathered, and those who weren’t, would be arriving soon.

“Where’s your brother?” Scorpius asks, sipping on his cup of cider.

“Being fashionably late, like always.” Albus rolls his eyes, and when he hears a thump, and a cry of _James Potter,_ he knows his brother has arrived.

James had gotten signed right out of Hogwarts to play quidditch. Since then, his life has been training and matches, and whatever sorts of calendar shootings, interviews, and anything else that quidditch professionals do. Albus didn’t pay too much attention to his brother’s career.

Albus lets out a snort as his older brother enters the house. James is making a scene, like always. Instead of his usual dark auburn floppy hair, part of it had been dyed the colours of his quiddtch team, with half a side shaved with the team’s initials in it.

“You really had to go and give Gran a heart attack on Christmas, didn’t you?” Albus teases his brother with a smirk. His brother just rolls his eyes.

“I wouldn’t be the one to talk, Albie. I’m not the one that ditched getting a haircut to pierce my lip.” He reaches out to ruffle his little brother’s hair. “’Sides, can’t back down from a bet when you’re on a team. Ask Mum,” James says with a smirk. “Word got around that the Harpies all got pixies in Mum’s first year. Some sort of team comradery. You would know that if you were on a team.” He reaches out to flick his brother’s lip ring.

“Al’s playing quidditch this year,” Scorpius announces. “He made the team second term last year after an injury happened.”

James smirks. “Oh yeah?” He raises a brow at his little brother. “You didn’t tell me,” he says.

“Al’s trying to be quiet about it,” Scorpius replies. “So he doesn’t get too stressed and, well.” Scorpius doesn’t continue, and James goes quiet.

Whenever fifth year is brought up, James goes quiet, which is abnormal. Although, Scorpius is pretty sure that seeing your little brother in a hospital with tubes tied to him is something that is haunting. For himself, to see Albus wrapped in hospital gowns and tubes, was haunting.

He doesn’t want to think about that.

“Okay, okay,” Molly calls. “It’s time for gifts,” she calls out, and it’s like everyone is a child again. The grandchildren all scatter to their respective spots, Scorpius keeping his hands linked to Albus. The adults all gather on the various couches.

When the packages are all sorted out, Molly stands back and waits, before saying, “Okay, go!” Paper is thrown about, and cheers, moans, and groans all erupt simultaneously. Some are thrilled with their colours, some aren’t.

Scorpius sits back and watches his boyfriend open his parcel. Everyone knows they’re jumpers, but everyone is still surprised regardless, or at least acts surprised. Molly smiles, watching as her children and grandchildren open their gifts.

“Oh, I forgot,” she says and goes over to hand one of the parcels to Scorpius. “Sorry dear, I didn’t see you behind Albus. Happy Christmas, Scorpius,” she says and bends down to kiss his cheek.

Scorpius unwraps the parcel and smiles at it. It’s the same patchwork of colours and yarn from the jumper Molly had knitted him after his mother died. Al had told him that it had so many various pieces of yarn because she didn’t have enough of one colour. The theme seems to be replicated in this jumper, only with one noticeable difference. In silver script seems to be the name _Scorpius_ written across the breast of where a pocket would be.

“Welcome to the family dear,” Molly says as Albus kisses Scorpius on the lips softly.

Scorpius puts the jumper on and all feels warm again.

It feels like home.

**Author's Note:**

> Light fluff today! Stay tuned for Thursdays prompt! :)
> 
> as always, feel free to check out my [writing tumblr](http://spacerockwriting.tumblr.com)


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